A Warm Bath and Distracting Thoughts
by CurvyCurlyGirly
Summary: Post 3x12. Rated M for later chapter. After a long and stressful week, all Felicity wants is to relax and destress. Will a surprise visitor help or keep her from her goal?


Author's note: This story is sans beta, so any mistakes are purely my own. Also, apologies for any typos with missing or extra letters in places. My keyboard started to stick and act up halfway through writing. I think I caught all the typos, but just in case one or two slipped passed me, just letting you know it's all my keyboards fault! Haha. Anyway, hope you enjoy this little ficcy.

There was a thick tension in the Foundry when Felicity descended the stairs the night following Oliver's return. Roy, John, and Oliver were scattered around the space, with no signs of Laurel. This wasn't too surprising given there was still a lot of work to be done in the Glades recovering from Brick's reign of terror. It made sense for Laurel to be busy in the DA's office. Felicity also figured perhaps Laurel was waiting for the right moment to face Oliver and the inevitable battle that would commence with Oliver voicing his feelings-none positive, no doubt-about Laurel's strides in stepping into Sara's shoes. Laurel had managed to gain Roy and John's grudging acceptance, but everyone knew Oliver would be a whole other uphill battle. Felicity made a mental note that she wanted to make sure she'd be there whenever the battle began, stand in Laurel's corner if need be. She had to admit, if only just to herself, some of that may have to do with the desire to humble-ok, maybe hurt, she reluctantly admitted to herself-Oliver in some way.

As Felicity's heels clicked across the concrete floor, she noticed Oliver look up from the busy work of sharpening his arrows, his brows furrowing in confused surprise for a moment before his features smoothed out to their previous blank surface. Even without saying it, Felicity could tell Oliver was slightly surprised to see her. As if he thought their talk last night meant she would be staying away from him, from the Foundry, for some time. She forced herself to barely acknowledge his gaze and simply crossed to her computers, setting her bag down on the edge of the table and sitting at her table. Because that was exactly what the computers, the table, the chair, were. Hers. And though her heart was currently bruised and battered from the anger and disappointment she was feeling towards Oliver, she wasn't about to let that sideline her.

"We should head out," Roy spoke up, his statement meant for Oliver but also addressing the whole room. "My guess is the cops might need some help gathering up any of Brick's buddies that are still out there." Roy had a point. Just because Brick himself was in police custody, didn't mean the streets had instantly been returned to the status quo. Some clean up would be required over the next few nights. Though, Felicity had a feeling some of Roy just needed to get away from the palpable quiet unease in the room.

"Yeah," was all Oliver responded with before hauling himself to his feet. Felicity focused on logging into her system and booting it up as the sounds of Roy and Oliver gearing up for the night went on behind her. It was decided that the two leathered and masked vigilantes would head out on their own, not expecting too much difficulty, with the option to call John in for backup if it was needed. Felicity felt Oliver's gaze on her back for a long moment before he and Roy exited to where their bikes were parked, leaving her alone with John.

"Well, I guess having a near death experience hasn't changed Oliver's talent for subtlety," John spoke after a while as he leaned against the edge of the table housing the computers, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What?" Felicity asked, tilting her gaze up towards her friend. John raised his eyebrows and fixed her with a knowing look.

"The guy's still recovering from a scimitar to the gut, and yet not only is he jumping up for Glade's clean up crew with Roy, but also deciding I should hang back?" He asked. Felicity pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him as she waited for him to continue. John sighed. "My guess is he thought you might need talk about something," he finally concluded, his voice taking on his patented sage tone. Felicity huffed out a weary sigh and turned back to her computer. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from icily replying that that would require Oliver to think about her at all, and shrugged.

"Or he's being stubborn and pigheaded and thinking he can just jump back into action regardless of his injuries," she replied. She rolled her eyes to herself, not really seeing how that was much better than what she had kept herself from saying. John continued to peer at her.

"Look, he didn't say anything about what happened after he went after you," John commented.

"Are you really surprised?" Felicity asked, given that they both knew Oliver wasn't necessarily the most open and forthcoming person in the world. John gave her a small smile and blew out a breath of a chuckle.

"No, I guess not," he replied, "I'm just saying, I know things are complicated right now, Oliver being back, him wanting to work with Merlyn...everything...if you need to talk-"

"I don't," Felicity firmly stated. John uncrossed his arms and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

"But if you do," he said, his tone gentle yet insistent, "just know that you can, and I'm here to listen, okay?" Felicity lifted her gaze back up towards him and offered him a small grateful smile.

"Yeah, I know," she said, "thanks, Digg," she placed one of her hands on the one on her shoulder in a small gesture to show she appreciated his concern, then sat up straight and turned to face forward to show she didn't feel like discussing the matter any further.

The streets ended up being relatively quiet. Roy and Oliver had delivered one of Brick's former henchmen to the alleyway behind the police station to be collected by Lance, but the rest of the night had just been the two doing a sweep of the neighborhood only to find that either the police had already rounded up any stragglers, or they had decided it was in their best interest to lay low with the police and vigilantes still on high alert. By the time Oliver and Roy returned to the Foundry, it was already close to one in the morning.

"I guess your whole grand entrance last night is having a lot of these guys running scared and looking into another line of business," John commented to Oliver regarding the quiet patrol as Oliver set his bow and quiver in the weapons case.

"Looks like it," Oliver replied. Oliver shifted his gaze over to Felicity as she swiveled her chair around to glance at him and Roy, acknowledging their return, but otherwise said nothing. Once again the space was saturated in tension as none of the four of them was sure how to address the numerous elephants in the room, most of which seemed to be shaped like Malcolm Merlyn. After a long moment, Oliver turned and opened the case holding his empty mannequin. "It's late," he commented as he pushed back his hood. "You guys should head home," he said, seeming to direct the advice to everyone but also seeming to focus solely on Felicity.

"Yeah," John nodded. He cast a glance over to Felicity, "come on, I'll walk you to your car," he offered. Felicity nodded and rose to her feet, quietly picking up her purse. She made a move to head towards the stairs leading up to the club, when she once again caught Oliver's gaze. He had slipped off his mask and unzipped his green leather jacket, leaving it open and letting the thin black shirt he had worn underneath poke through. He looked at her almost as if he was waiting for something. Felicity realized a part of her was doing the same. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for; perhaps he had somehow come to his senses in the last twenty four hours and was going to say he realized aligning himself with Malcolm was a bad idea, or he wanted to talk about her parting line to him as she walked away from him the night before. Anything really. But as seconds went by, Oliver simply continuing to look at her with his blank yet expectant expressions, Roy and John alternating between sharing a look amongst themselves and looking over at her and Oliver, Felicity realized that wasn't going to happen. So, she decided she'd toss out something, well one of the things at least, that had been in her head since Oliver dropped the bombshell of working with Malcolm.

"I just have one rule," she spoke, causing Oliver to blink in surprise. A part of him wasn't expecting her to actually say anything, to just walk away, and he was also surprised upon realizing this had been the first words she'd spoken to him since the night before.

"Okay," Oliver finally spoke, mentally preparing himself for whatever Felicity felt the need to throw at him. Felicity drew in a deep breath through her nose and squared her shoulders as she looked him straight in the eye.

"Whatever it is you're doing with Merlyn, training...scheming...I don't care. Whatever it is, it's not going to be in here," she asserted. Oliver blinked in confusion a few times and opened his mouth to reply, prompting Felicity to continue on before he could try to argue. "You're not going to listen to reason," she continued, her mind going back to the last conversation on the matter and a lump forming in her throat at the memory of it. "Try as...anyone...might, that's clearly not going to happen." She saw Oliver's expression soften and contort into a thinly veiled pained look at the resignation in her tone.

"Felicity-"

"No," she cut in, holding up a hand to stop any sort of excuse or explanation he had on deck, "you stubbornly believe this is what you have to do," she continued. "Doesn't mean any of us have to like it." She felt the lump in her throat growing the more she looked at him. "We don't have to like that you're choosing to put aside the fact that all of this is his fault. That Malcolm Merlyn manipulated and endangered your sister, and for all intents and purposes killed Sara," she continued, her voice tight and strained. She saw John move to take a step closer to her from the corner of her eye as she took in a shuddering breath. "Not to mention the other 503 people he killed here in the Glades, including your best friend. Or the fact that everything you've gone through since the moment you stepped onto your father's yacht all those years ago was because of that man, that monster," she said. She wanted to damn herself for letting herself slip into thinking about all this, for letting the unemotional wall she had tried to keep constructed the moment she walked into the Foundry now lay crumbled at her feet. Oliver looked away and squeezed his eyes shut at the sting of her words, but Felicity was no where near done. "You want to sell your soul to the devil, and no one can stop you," she breathed out, angry tears beginning to collect in her eyes. Beside her, she felt John take hold of her elbow in an effort to provide something...Strength? Comfort? Some sort of anchor to ground herself? She didn't know, but she decided to take what she needed from it. She took in a deep steadying breath and swallowed down the lump in her throat as best she could. "What I'm trying to say is," she spoke, forcing her tone to remain even and detached, "is that," she paused as she tried to find the right words she needed. "I don't want him here," she finally stated. "Merlyn's found his way down here enough times for my liking. If he's here, I won't be," she said, her gaze hard to convey this wasn't an empty threat.

"Felicity," Roy spoke up from behind Oliver, "you don't mean that."

"Oh, I do," Felicity said. She shook her head. "I don't want it to come to that, because, let's face it, the three of you wouldn't last a day without me," she said with a wry humorless chuckle. Whether that was true or not wasn't a thread Felicity was going to pick at too much. The fact was though, as much as she believed in Oliver and the team as a whole saving the city, as much as she felt this-the mission, the foundry, everything-was as much her home as anyone else's, the idea of being connected to Malcolm Merlyn in anyway, even in just proximity, left a sour taste in Felicity's mouth and she refused to let it remain, "but this is how I feel." She saw Oliver's shoulder slump slightly as he forced himself to return her gaze. "So, that's my rule," Felicity summarized as her eyes met Oliver's. "Whatever you need to do with Merlyn, it won't be here." There was quiet once again as Oliver took in her words, his thumb rubbing against the side of his index finger as he often did.

"Okay," he said after a while. "If that's what you want, okay." His voice was soft and defeated, as if she had literally racked him over coals instead of only possibly metaphorically. It didn't take a genius to know the subtext of his words. Felicity saw it as clear as if he'd erected a neon sign: Oliver couldn't, wouldn't, give her what she truly wanted, staying far away from Malcolm, Oliver and her being able to talk about...everything...between them and perhaps him actually acting on all the promises his "I love you" had created. Oliver wasn't going to be offering up the things Felicity deeply wanted, and so he would be pretty much willing to give her any thing else. Any other compromise she required, Oliver would bend over backwards to give if need be. She knew this. He probably would've agreed without her speech.

"That's what I want," Felicity affirmed, her jaw tight and her look resolute. The two stayed in their locked gaze for a few moments, either waiting for or daring the other to say anything else and being afraid or unsure of what could even be said anymore. John simply stood at Felicity's side, dutifully silent, whereas Roy was the first to break the silence as he finished slipping his red leather jacket onto his mannequin and took a step closer to the other three.

"How is that going to work?" He asked. "I mean, I doubt the loft is an option, not if you want to try to keep Thea out of this for the time being." Oliver clenched his jaw and closed his eyes for a moment as a long suffering sigh drifted from his nose.

"I'll figure something out," he stated.

"Alright then," Felicity spoke up in a false upbeat tone and a forced smile. She turned her gaze to John. "Shall we go?" John cast a quick glance to Oliver before looking back at Felicity and returning her smile to do his best to play along with her need to move on from this conversation.

"We shall," he said with a joking flourish. Felicity's smile became a little more genuine, not for the first time thankful to have him there for her. He placed a guiding hand on her back as the two moved away from Oliver and Roy and left the Foundry.

Oliver sighed and closed his eyes as he heard the door at the top of the stairs click shut, his heart heavy at watching Felicity walk away.

"Are you okay?" Roy asked, to which Oliver gave a dismissive shake of his head.

"It's late," he said, changing the subject as he slipped off his leather jacket and busied himself with putting it away. Roy furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to say something, but a warning look from Oliver told him that wasn't recommended. Roy's mouth snapped shut for a brief moment before he shrugged to himself, figuring it would be best not to pry or argue.

"Yeah, okay," was all he said as the two of them changed back into their civilian attire in silence.

AN2: First off, thanks so much for reading. You rock! Also, as the tag states, there will be eventual smut sexy times. Eventual as in the next chapter which I hope to have up soon. This was more of a prolouge and means to an end to set up what follows. I'm not sure how thrilled I am with how this chapter turned out, as I had originally planned on just making this a one-shot with all that went on here jus being mentioned on the way to the nitty gritty meat of the story, but alas my muses weren't going to let me off that easily and forced me to write it out in all its angsty glory. Ah well, it is what it is haha.


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